What If?
by montez
Summary: What if the episode 'Breaking Point' had been two hours long and Charlie's 'dark-road' encounter had been more dramatic. This is how I wish it could have played out. Hope you like.
1. Chapter 1

What If?

By: Montez

Disclaimer: Standard; Don't own, never will.

Don had just hung up the phone, having called Charlie about the pages of numbers David and Colby had found at Bonnie Parks' office. He turned to let the guys know Charlie was on his way when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, Don was surprised to see Charlie calling him back already. He flipped the cell open, a puzzled expression on his face, "Yeah Charlie?" Silence met his ear, then a muffled noise; next it sounded as if the phone had been dropped.

"Charlie?" The concern in his voice got David and Colby's attention. They watched as worry caused a crease in Don's forehead as he heard a distant '_Oh God' _and the sound, that he couldn't quite place, was heard again, only louder. Don's mind worked frantically; Charlie was probably still in his car and the sound of panic Don could make out in the muffled words was unnerving.

Looking again at Colby, with worry in his voice, Don spoke. "Get a trace on Charlie's phone, something's going on; it's his number, but he's not answering me." Colby quickly left the room grabbing the first tech he could find to start the trace.

Don continued listening, hearing the noise a third time. This time, however, he distinctly heard the screeching of tires, followed by a loud crashing sound. Don exited the conference room followed closely by David, to see if Colby was getting the trace. He again called out to his brother, "Charlie! Come on Buddy, talk to me."

A feeling of panic was rising in his soul as there was silence for a few seconds then the sound of someone moving around, but still no Charlie. The next sound actually took a second to register in Don's mind as he had jerked the phone from his ear. It had been loud enough that David, Colby and the tech all looked at Don. Fear filled Don's voice, "That was a gun shot! Where is he!?"

"It's coming up," Colby replied.

Don was already heading toward the exit, David close behind. "Call with the location!" Colby shouted over his shoulder to the tech as he rushed to catch up with Don and David, who were at the elevators. As the three entered the lift the sound of Charlie's car alarm was unexpectedly heard through the phone. When the elevator doors finally opened to the parking garage, they exited, running for Don's SUV. Getting in the truck Don placed the phone in the dash holder, hitting the speaker function. As he started the vehicle the sound of the alarm filtering through his cell filled the truck.

As they pulled out onto the street Colby's phone rang, and he snatched it off his belt. "Yeah…on Magnolia…okay…we're about 15 minutes away…Let me know when they arrive…Tell them we're heading to the scene." Colby snapped his phone shut, catching Don's eyes in the rearview mirror. "The trace puts Charlie on Magnolia; LAPD has just been dispatched to the area on a MVA with several 'shots fired' calls coming in already.

Don nodded brusquely. He hadn't said a word since they had gotten into the elevator. All three men were worried about a certain curly-headed brother and friend. Suddenly the sound of the alarm coming through Don's phone stopped. They could faintly hear the sound of approaching sirens coming across it now as Don flipped his own on, pressing his foot a little harder on the gas.

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Charlie had just hung up from Don's call. He still felt, for lack of a better word, irritated at his brother. Yes it was, in hind-sight, stupid to do the interview, but couldn't Don let it rest? The looks he had gotten from him earlier in the day as well as the little comments here and there from the team, almost made Charlie wonder why he kept trying so hard to please his brother. Add to that the incident from last night and his nerves were about raw from the stress of the past couple of days. It all contributed to an uncomfortable level of nervousness, allowing him to give in to the paranoid feeling he was getting every time a car pulled out behind him.

Now, a rock dropped into the pit of his stomach as up ahead he saw what he thought was the silhouette of a sickeningly familiar truck. As he passed it his fears were confirmed as its floodlights and high beams filled his rearview mirror as it pulled out behind him. All feeling of ill-will toward Don vanished as Charlie grabbed his phone from the seat next to him and hit Don's speed-dial number. He was only able to make out the first ring as his car was slammed from behind by the truck, causing him to drop the phone. Worry that the connection was made was soon forgotten as Charlie struggled to keep his smaller car on the road.

Never hearing Don's voice over his open phone, Charlie gripped the wheel, bracing for the next impact. _"Oh God!" _he called out automatically as again he fought to keep control of his car from the continued onslaught of the larger vehicle. Charlie saw the curve in the road up ahead, knowing he wasn't going to clear it at the speed he was going. For the final time the truck rammed the rear of his car, sending him into a sideways skid, before he slammed into a row of mailboxes and trash cans.

Coming to such an abrupt halt had caused Charlie to slam his head into the steering wheel. Stunned for a few seconds he raised his hand toward his head. Finally he noticed the bright lights as the truck pulled up toward the driver's side of the Prius. His hand automatically, albeit shakingly, reached for the seatbelt release, as he watched the door of the truck open. Somehow he managed to grab his keys as he watched the figure approach his car. It took Charlie's mind a half-second to realize the man had raised a gun in his direction. In that instant his mind flashed back to the shooting inside the FBI offices a few years ago, when another man had aimed a gun in his direction.

The sound of the discharge snapped Charlie into action as he quickly scrambled across the passenger seat, and shoved his way out of the car. Half-running, half-crawling, Charlie made it over the slight incline to the relative safety of the bushes about 15 feet from the car. Charlie watched the man near the vehicle, seemingly unaware that Charlie had exited it. As the man stepped closer Charlie hit the panic button on his remote, setting off the car's alarm. Charlie noticed a passing car slow down as the man quickly returned to the truck and sped off. He waited a few seconds after it disappeared around the bend in the road, just to make sure it wasn't coming back. He also noticed lights in several surrounding house's had come on.

Charlie slowly stood on shaky legs. A wave of dizziness caused him to stumble slightly. Not only was adrenaline causing his body to shake, Charlie was finally noticing he had the headache from hell as well. Stumbling another step he raised his hand to his head as he remembered hitting the steering wheel forcefully. He stopped his movement as he felt something wet on the side of his head. Knowing that it was his forehead he had hit, he couldn't understand why the side of his head would be wet. Pulling his hand back Charlie saw in the dim light from the street lamp a few houses away, a dark stain on his hand. Staring at his hand as if it had just betrayed him; Charlie's shaking grew worse, as his breathing started coming in gasps. Feeling his heart rate increase and his knees weakening, Charlie's last thought was _' He shot me', _as he collapsed to the ground.

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LAPD Officer Mike Jameson was the first to inform dispatch that he'd checkout the accident and possible shots fired on Magnolia. He listened as two other officers followed suit, a 'shots fired' call required more than one officer to investigate, for obvious safety reasons. Dispatch relayed that an ambulance was also en route, but would remain up the street until the scene was secured. To Jameson all that was more or less expected. However, the relay that FBI would be arriving on the scene shortly as well confused him a bit.

Officer Jameson arrived just as another officer arrived from one of the connecting roads. Officer Kevin Davis pulled his vehicle alongside Officer Jameson's, both sets of the cruiser's headlights, as well as their search beams, illuminated the small car ahead of them. They cautiously exited their cruisers, guns drawn, and together they slowly approached the driver's side.

Jameson's flashlight caught the splintered pattern of the drivers-side window with the neat hole in the center. "Definitely shots fired," he whispered to Officer Davis, who nodded in return. Davis approached closer as Jameson slowly made his way around to the other side, watching for any movement. Noticing the passenger door open just as Davis called out that the car was clear, Jameson turned some, looking into the surrounding darkened shadows caused by the cruisers backlighting the car.

As he neared the remnants of the mailboxes something caught his attention. "I got a man down!" he yelled to Officer Davis, as a third cruiser arrived on scene. Jameson quickly, but cautiously approached the fallen figure. Instinctively he reached first to the man's neck to check for a pulse, relieved to find one, though it was rapid. He called into dispatch. "Dispatch, this is unit 53, scene is secure. Direct that ambulance to our location. We have a civilian down, unknown injuries."

"Copy unit 53, ambulance en route."

Jameson heard the siren almost immediately as it had just been up the street waiting for clearance to approach. Trying to assess any injuries without moving the man, Jameson brushed back some of the curls that obscured the fallen man's face; first he took in the large knot on his forehead, then he noticed the blood. Seeing that the knot wasn't split open he looked a little closer with his flashlight. As the ambulance pulled up behind him he picked out the tell-tale signs of a GSW.

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Colby's phone rang while they were still 5 minutes from the scene. Don glanced into the mirror as Colby answered it. "Granger…They're on scene?…Okay, and they know we're coming?…" There was a long pause in Colby's side of the conversation that unnerved Don. "Our ETA is about 3 minutes." With that Colby closed his phone.

"Well?" Don snapped.

"LAPD is on scene, as is an ambulance. Charlie's car appears to have crashed into a row of mailboxes and trash cans."

"An ambulance?" Don's voice was full of worry.

"According to the first officers on the scene, Charlie's unconscious." David and Colby both saw Don tense, making Colby hold back on what else he had been told; preliminary observations from the first response team was that Charlie also appeared to have been shot.

As the SUV turned onto Magnolia the emergency lights could be seen about halfway down. Don stopped his truck in the gap between a cruiser and the ambulance and all three agents exited the vehicle at once. Colby observed officers searching around Charlie's car, "I'll check that out," he said, heading in that direction.

David nodded as he and Don pulled out their badges, flipping them open for the approaching officer. "We heard you guys were coming; I'm Officer Jameson…" That was all the officer got out before David saw Don's direction and pace change. David hurried to keep up. Finally seeing what Don was focused on, David saw EMTs crouched on the ground about ten feet back off the road from Charlie's car. Don's pace continued to quicken the closer he got, causing David to almost jog to keep up.

Don first saw the shoes and legs of the person the paramedics were working on, still unable to see the face. However he knew in his heart it was his little brother lying there, though his mind wanted so desperately to deny it. As he got closer he caught a glimpse of the dark curls and lunged forward. "CHARLIE!" David grabbed his arm as Don tried to pull away to get closer to his brother. "CHARLIE!"

David's grip tightened. "Don, let them work!" They were both near enough to see the gauze wrapped around Charlie's head as well as the cervical collar around his neck. An oxygen mask obscured most of his face. David turned toward Officer Jameson, who stood silently a few feet away. "Do you know what happened yet?"

Officer Jameson stepped closer. "Not completely; the other officers have gotten a couple of witness statements. I've stayed with him," he gestured toward Charlie, "in case he regained consciousness. From what we could tell and what the medics have said, he's probably got a pretty good concussion. Apparently he hit the steering wheel in the crash, but their main concern is the GWS on the side of his head."

Don turned abruptly, "A GSW? Charlie has a gun…gun shot wound?" David felt a tremor pass through the senior agent's arm.

"Yes, sir." Officer Jameson continued, "They're not sure how bad it is until they get him to the hospital." Jameson watched as the agent before him paled; turning his attention back to the activity on the ground, watching as Charlie was turned and a backboard slid under him.

Jameson leaned in toward David and whispered, "Is this guy one of yours?"

David nodded, "Yeah, he consults for us, but he's also a close friend and he's Agent Eppes'," David gestured toward Don, "brother." David didn't see Jameson's reaction to that as he and Don watched Charlie being lifted onto the stretcher. As the medics secured Charlie and started moving toward the ambulance Don spoke. "I'm going with him." He turned to follow his brother, but David didn't let go of his arm.

"Don, what about your dad?" David asked as he finally released his hold on Don.

"Dad," Don whispered watching the back of the ambulance with longing. "David," Don's eyes held a pleading in them David had never seen. "Could you go get him and bring him to the hospital?" David nodded as Don shakingly handed him his keys, turned, and jogged toward the back of the rig and climbed in.

As the doors slammed shut Colby approached David. They both watched as two of their colleagues, their friends, sped away, lights and sirens going. "How is he?" Colby quietly asked.

David let out a deep sigh, "He's still unconscious. He's got a hell of a knot on his forehead, but they're more worried about the GSW." David saw that the news of the gunshot wound didn't seem to surprise Colby; that must have been what David had sensed Colby was withholding when he was giving Don the information from the second phone call.

He didn't mention it as Colby spoke again. "How's Don doing?" They turned, heading for the SUV.

"He's really shaken," David said, climbing into the driver's seat. "He wants us to go and get Alan." Colby silently nodded as David started the vehicle. "You get anything?" David glanced at Colby who was looking over his notes.

"Witnesses saw a gray or silver pickup stopped next to Charlie's car; nobody got the plates or description of the driver, though. Several people reported the shot, then the car alarm going off, which apparently scared off the shooter. A couple folks think the truck may have had fancy grillwork but…" Colby paused pulling out his cell phone, glancing at David. "I think I remember seeing a truck matching this description on the security videos of the parking garage where Bonnie Parks disappeared. I'll see if I can get a tech to run it again, maybe we can get a plate from it." Colby made the call as David silently drove to Charlie's house, trying to figure out a way to tell Alan that one of his sons had been shot; only not the one he would have thought.


	2. Chapter 2

What if?

Part 2

By: Montez

Authors note: Oh God, I hope Fraidycat doesn't hate me forever, I forgot to give her a HUGE THANK YOU for again being my wonderful Beta on this story. Please forgive me J Hope you all are enjoying my alternate scene from 'Breaking Point' Thanks for reading.

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The ambulance ride was blessedly uneventful. Don sat staring at his little brother's pale face under the oxygen mask and the unnatural stillness of his body. He half-listened to the messages relayed back and forth between the medic and the hospital. Don had subconsciously worked his hand into Charlie's, squeezing it ever-so-gently, just to see if Charlie would return the pressure. He didn't.

Don's mind replayed the phone call; the noises of what he now knew to be the truck ramming the back of Charlie's car, Charlie's whispered plea, the sound of the gunshot. A terrible guilt started to descend in Don's soul, the guilt of his brother needing him and not being able to reach him in time. Don was jarred from his thoughts by the jolting stop of the ambulance and the unwelcome feeling of Charlie's hand slipping from his as the stretcher was pulled from the back. Don had to jog to keep up with it as it was rushed through the emergency entrance.

Don followed until it passed through a second set of doors, where he was stopped by a nurse who gently laid her hand on his arm, "Sir, you can't come back here. We'll take good care of him. Someone will be out to talk to you soon." She gave him her practiced, reassuring smile.

"That's my brother!" Don protested, his eyes pleading with the nurse.

Again she tried to reassure him. "We'll take care of him. What's your brother's name?"

"Charlie. Charlie Eppes." Don looked longingly down the hall, through the door the nurse held ajar.

"Does Charlie have any allergies?"

"No…no." Don met her eyes again.

She motioned toward the waiting room. "If you'll just take a seat." With that she turned and went through the doors.

Don watched as the doors closed slowly, and a terrifying thought filled his mind, _' could that have been the last time I ever see my little brother alive?' _ As the two-inch thick faux-wood doors clicked shut Don took a step toward them, placing his hand flat against the surface. The overwhelming guilt of how he had talked to and treated his brother the last day-and-a-half, since the interview, weighed on his shoulders like a boulder.

Delores approached the young man standing at the trauma room doors. She was one of the senior citizen volunteers, drawn by the sadness his posture conveyed; the way he hung his head with his hand flat against the door. She recognized that posture instantly; it spoke of a family member feeling he had been forever separated from his loved one. She approached cautiously, gently touching Don's arm. "Honey, you really should come sit down. We don't want you blocking the doors." The soft comforting voice drew Don's attention. The desperation she saw in his eyes made a memory of her own flash in her mind.

"My brother," Don whispered as he allowed Delores to lead him to a row of chairs. Immediately he fell heavily onto one.

She looked at him as he put his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Your little brother?" Delores asked quietly.

Don slowly nodded his head, his voice just above a whisper. "I let him down." Don opened his eyes revealing unshed tears.

"I'm sure that's not true," Delores replied as she patted his arm, taking a seat next to him. "Is there someone I can call for you, to come wait with you?"

Don shook his head as he spoke, "My team's getting my dad."

"Your team?" Don's lack of uniform made the comment somewhat puzzling.

As Don leaned forward he mumbled, "FBI." She nodded knowingly. She had seen enough law enforcement personnel in her time working at the hospital to know they instinctively took care of their own. As the young man placed his elbows on his knees, leaning his head down, his posture reminded her of a day nearly 20 years earlier, when she had walked into an emergency room to find her eldest son sitting in a similar position.

_The day was forever burned into her mind; it was the day she had lost her baby boy. He had only been seventeen years old. Her son, Eric, had been in an automobile accident and her eldest son, Michael, was one of the first-responding firefighters on the scene. Once his crew realized who was in the vehicle, a couple of them had to hold Michael back while they had cut Eric out. Michael rode with his little brother to the hospital and the way the young man next to her was sitting was the same way her eldest was sitting when a couple of his crew had brought her to the hospital._

Pulling herself from her memory, Delores prayed for the young man next to her, hoping that his brother would be okay. No family should have to go through what hers had all those years ago. She further hoped that the guilt she saw in the young man's expression wouldn't be carried for the years her eldest had carried his. It had been that experience, and the kindness of a hospital volunteer who took care of her family during that time, that convinced her to turn her horrible loss into a positive by helping others in their desperate time. This is how she came to sitting next to Don Eppes, occasionally giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, as they quietly waited for word on his brother.

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David pulled Don's SUV into the drive of the Craftsman home to which he and the rest of Don's team had always been warmly welcomed. He was still struggling with how he was going to tell Alan what he needed to say. Alan's car was in the driveway, but the house was dark. David glanced at his watch, noting that it was nearly 10:30pm. "I hope he's still awake, I hate to wake him with this," David commented as Colby and he exited the truck and Colby rounded the front to join David. They both unconsciously straightened their suit coats as they approached the door.

Alan had been sitting in his favorite chair under the soft glow of the nearby reading lamp, working on his favorite cross-word puzzle book when he heard the familiar sound of his eldest son's vehicle pull into the driveway. Not giving it much thought, as he soon expected Don to come walking through the door, until he heard two doors slam closed. Alan had know Charlie had left earlier, he thought headed toward Don's office, but now thinking maybe he had gone to CalSci to work, as he had done the previous night.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knocking at the door. Confused, Alan, carrying his puzzle book with him, made his way to the door wondering why Donnie would be knocking.

David knocked, worried that maybe Alan was already in bed until he heard the shuffling behind the door and the sound of the dead-bolt being unlatched. The door opened and Alan saw two unexpected figures, "David? Colby?" Confusion crossed his face as the first tentacles of fear passed through his soul.

David responded first, "May we come in?"

"Oh yes, where are my manners, please." Alan stepped back and gestured for them to enter. "I could have sworn it was Donnie's truck I heard pull in. Could I get you both something to drink? If you're looking for Charlie he left a while ago." Alan turned slightly, taking a step toward the kitchen. He rattled on nervously, trying to fill the silence words instead of the unrelenting fear that threatened to overtake him.

"Mr. Eppes." Colby's gentle tone stopped Alan in his tracks. Still not wanting to let the younger men talk for fear of what they might be there to say. Alan, smiling nervously, correcting Colby.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's 'Alan', Colby!"

"Mr. Eppes." This time it was David who addressed him. Alan allowed himself to hear the strain in their voices and the tense posture in which they each held themselves finally registered.

"David?" Alan could already feel the lead settling in his stomach as he spoke David's name. This was turning into one of those visits he had long-feared since the day Donnie had joined the FBI.

"There's been an accident…" David started. Both agents noticed that Alan had lost a shade of color, as his puzzle book and pen slipped from his hand, bouncing on the floor.

"Oh God, Donnie? Is Donnie okay?" Alan's shaking hands clasped in front of him.

"Mr. Eppes," David was trying to stay professional, to help control his own emotions of the situation, "Don's fine. It's Charlie, he was in a car accident. Don went with him to the hospital, he asked us to come take you to them."

David and Colby watched as relief flashed in Alan's eyes upon hearing Don was safe, only to be quickly replaced by disbelief when it finally registered in his mind that his other son was not. "Charlie? He's alright isn't he?"

"He was still unconscious when he left in the ambulance. Please Mr. Eppes, Alan, we should go." David tried to modulate his voice to convey urgency without adding to the worry already on Alan's face.

"Yes…" Alan seemed to become distracted, "I need to get my keys…" He patted his pockets, "My jacket." Alan's words stumbled as he reached for his glasses, still sitting on the bridge of his nose. He placed them on the table, turning to retrieve the needed items. David and Colby exchanged nervous glances; this wasn't the Alan they knew. This nervous, frightened man before them was nothing like the confident, sometimes imposing figure Alan could portray.

Within minutes the three men left the house. Colby pulled the door shut, making sure it was locked, then climbed into the SUV behind David as Alan took the passenger seat. It was silent for a few minutes as David backed from the driveway, but as they turned onto the main road David flipped on the lights and sirens of the vehicle. This startled Alan who quickly looked at David and Colby. "David?" Alan knew that David would not have done this unless Charlie was very seriously injured.

It was Colby's voice from the back that caused Alan to turn as far as the seatbelt would allow. "Alan," The use of his name, now, was not lost on Alan, and his blood ran cold in his veins. "We also have reason to believe Charlie may have been shot as well." In that moment Colby was thankful they hadn't told Alan this while they were all still standing in the house. Even in the darkened vehicle he could see the rest of the color drain form Alan's features, and he raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

"Shot?" Alan slowly turned back around and sat, staring out the front window, trying to process that his non-FBI son was not only hurt in an automobile accident but possibly shot as well.

David glanced at Colby in the rearview mirror and pressed a little harder on the gas peddle.

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Delores had stayed next to Don as his position hadn't changed, he was still leaning forward staring at the floor. It had been nearly 30 minutes since Charlie had been brought in and Don still had no word on his brother's condition. Don seemed oblivious to Delores's presence next to him, but from her own experience she knew on some level she was helping the young man next to her. She had been watching the entryway and as Alan, flanked by David and Colby, rushed in, the look of desperation on his face, told her this must be the father of the young man next to her, as well as the injured man being treated behind the trauma room doors. She stood, approaching Alan before he reached the desk.

"Mr. Eppes?" Alan turned, really beginning to hate his name, and was met by an elderly woman in a pink volunteers smock. He seemed to tower over the small woman, yet stood in gentle submission at the tone of sympathy and compassion in her voice. "I have one of your boys over here with me." She motioned toward Don's slumped figure; looking at the floor as he was, he had not noticed that his father had arrived. Alan rushed past her to reach his eldest.

Delores looked at the younger men who had followed the older one in and introduced herself, "I'm Delores Smith, a volunteer here. You must be 'the team'?" She gestured toward Don.

"Yes ma'm," David answered. "I'm Special Agent David Sinclair and this is Special Agent Colby Granger. Has there been any word on Charlie?"

Delores sadly shook her head, "I'm afraid not." She looked toward Don again, who seemed to have just realized his father was in front of him. The three watched as Don looked up into his father's face. Even from a distance, David and Colby were somewhat shocked at Don's appearance. It wasn't that they didn't think he'd be upset, but the look of total despair and fear on his face was nothing they had ever seen on his face before. They watched as he stood and Alan pulled him into an embrace. Delores's small voice broke their silence. "I've been sitting with him since he got here, I just felt he needed someone with him." She gave the agents a knowing smile.

"Thank you for that," David smiled thankfully as they slowly started toward the waiting room.

"I'll just leave him to you, now." She touched both agent's arms. "He hurting; you take care of him." Her tone was grandmotherly as they both nodded. "Good, boys. Now, if you need anything you have them call me." With that Delores turned and headed for the door leading to the nurse's station.

David and Colby silently slipped into the waiting room, which was surprisingly empty, taking seats the next row over from Don and Alan. They wanted to stay close to offer support, but also to find out how their friend was. Watching, the two agents saw Alan leaning over, no doubt trying to offer Don comforting words. They suspected, however, from their experience with Don, that the total feeling of guilt Don was carrying at not being able to protect his brother was overriding anything his father was saying.

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Alan arrived in the ER desperate to see both of his sons. A volunteer had approached and directed him to Donnie. As soon as he had seen him, he rushed past her. Normally he wouldn't have just walked away, but he needed to see his son. As he neared the waiting room his heart skipped a beat as he observed Don's slumped form sitting there. Alan could feel tears in his own eyes; fearing the worst he cautiously approached his eldest son.

"Donnie?" Alan stopped in front of his son, calling his name, but Don didn't look up. Alan gently reached for Don's shoulder while again calling his name, "Donnie?" This time Don's head moved as he raised his face to meet his father's. The expression in Don's eyes nearly took Alan's breath.

"Dad?" The anguish in the way Don said that one word nearly broke Alan's heart; it made him nearly afraid to ask.

"Donnie…Is Charlie?" Alan didn't finish as Don slowly stood, just barely shaking his head.

"I don't know, they haven't…" Don's voice broke as Alan watched a tear slip out of his normally hard-as-nails son's eyes. Alan just stepped closer, pulling his son into a tight embrace, knowing instantly just how bad this son was hurting when he felt the embrace returned with nearly the same strength.

The comforting father kicked in as he felt Don shudder in his arms. "It's alright Donnie, I'm sure Charlie will be fine." Alan whispered the words not only to try and comfort Donnie, but himself as well. As they separated and sat Alan caught a glimpse of David and Colby sitting down a row over. Alan was instantly grateful his son worked with such wonderful, caring people. Alan again tried to reassure Don, but he couldn't get through the mask of guilt that showed on his son's face. It was another 45 minutes before a doctor finally emerged through those faux-wood doors.

"Family of Charlie Eppes?"


	3. Chapter 3

What If?

Part 3

By: Montez

Authors note: Final part to my three-part alternate scene. If you have read any of my other stories, I love to play with people's emotions. Don may seem out of character in this, but do we really know how he would react if Charlie was ever really hurt? This is how I'd want him to.

Thanks again for taking the time to read my story and another HUGE THANKS to FraidyCat for the Beta services. You are wonderful!!

Don jumped slightly at the sound of the doctor's voice. Alan rose from his spot next to Don, extending his hand to shake the doctors, but Don was the one who spoke.

"How…How's Charlie?" His voice was hoarse from the emotion he was trying to contain. The doctor regarded both men for a moment; he also noticed the two men in suits stand as he entered the waiting area.

Alan answered the unspoken question in the doctors expression. "Family friends."

The doctor nodded in understanding, "If you gentlemen will follow me we will discuss Charlie's condition somewhere more private." The four men, Alan, Don, David and Colby, followed the doctor to a small room nearby. Only Alan and Don entered; David and Colby remained in the hall allowing the doctor the discuss Charlie's condition with his father and brother in private, but wanting to remain close to see how their friend was. Inside the room Alan and Don silently took their seat. The doctor took a spot directly across from them. "Charlie is in stable condition. He hasn't regained consciousness; until he does we aren't giving him any pain medication. The blow to the forehead, as I understand it, was sustained in an automobile accident?" The doctor paused.

"It wasn't an accident!" Don nearly growled, his emotion taking over the control he would normally have. The doctor was acting as if this was an everyday occurrence. Okay maybe it was an everyday occurrence, but it was one for Charlie. Did this doctor understand how totally wrong this whole situation was? "He was shot at…_he was shot! _Are you going to tell us about that?!"

The doctor looked with sympathy at the young man as he watched the father place a hand on his son's arm, "Donnie," Alan whispered.

"I know it looked bad," the physician continued, "but fortunately it was only a grazing wound. There was no penetration of the skull, He was very lucky…" Don wondered for a second what Charlie might say about 'luck' playing into it. "We are concerned with the concussion he sustained, which was complicated by the shock of the gun shot wound. We're hopeful he will regain consciousness within a few hours. Once he wakes up we will be able to further assess his condition, but pending any other complication he should recover with little problem."

"So he should be all right?" Alan asked, wanting to make sure he was understanding correctly.

"His injuries, considering, are minor. So, yes, from that aspect, he should be." The doctor tried to be reassuring, hoping he wasn't offering false hope in the wake of his patient not yet being conscious.

"Can we see him?" Don's voice had changed from the anger of just moments ago, to the sound of exhaustion and underlying fear.

"We've moved him out of the trauma area to one of the ER recovery rooms. Again, once he's awake and evaluated we will know if he will have to be admitted for further observation, but yes you can sit with him. It will be good that when he wakes up it is to familiar faces." The doctor rose and stepped toward the door. Opening it he saw Delores nearby and called her over. "Delores would you take these gentlemen to room 113?"

"Of course." came the calming voice that had patiently reassured Don in the waiting room, then had directed Alan to his eldest.

Turning back, to look again at the men in the room, the doctor directed his next words their way. "If you have any questions, please have the nurses call for me." With that the doctor left the room, passing Delores who now held the door.

"If you gentlemen would follow me." She smiled warmly. Not only looking at Don and Alan, but glancing at David and Colby as well. Allowing them to fall into step she saw Alan start talking to the younger men, but her attention was drawn to Don's face; it still seemed filled with pain and guilt. She so hoped he would soon let go of that. As she walked the group down the hall she thought again hoe she enjoyed this part of her work, taking families to their loved ones in the recovery area. These trips came to much happier endings, then some to which she had born witness. As she neared door 113 she turned. "Here it is. If you need anything, please let me know," Delores smiled.

Alan smiled gratefully as he spoke to her, "Thank you very much, for everything." He then turned into Charlie's room.

As Don passed her, Delores stopped him with a hand on his arm. His worried eyes looked at her. "You let go of that guilt," she whispered, "your brother needs you--not your guilt. You take care of him and he'll take care of you." She smiled reassuringly as Don regarded her with a slightly confused look. She turned and walked away as Don passed through the door.

Don stopped just inside the door and stared at Charlie. His unnatural stillness still frightened him. There was fresh gauze around Charlie's head and instead of an oxygen mask obscuring his face, it was a nasal canal that fed extra oxygen to his seemingly sleeping brother. Don also took in the heart monitor and pulse ox clipped to his brother, but to Don's relief nothing else. Alan had already made his way to Charlie's side, touching a wayward curl not tucked under the bandage. The goose-egg knot was clearly visible, as an array of colors showed what soon would be an impressive bruise. Don approached the other side of the bed relieved to finally be able to get closer to his brother, noting the rise and fall of his chest, totally unaided.

Don gently took Charlie's hand, much like he had in the ambulance and held it, just looking at his brother. He had been so afraid when those doors in the ER separated them that he'd never see Charlie alive again. However, now he could breathe a little easier. He wasn't totally relaxed as Charlie still hadn't awoken, but at least he was confident he would not loose his brother today.

David and Colby had stood near the door, relieved to see Charlie alive, but cautious not to intrude on the family's moment. David approached Alan, as it seemed Don was still absorbed. Gently touching Alan's arm, David spoke, "Alan, we're going to go and see if LAPD has any leads yet," Glancing at Don, David continued, "Tell Don we'll stop by in the morning."

Alan gave David a nod, turning toward the agent, friend, who had brought him to his sons. "Thank you David," He included Colby in his glance. "And you too Colby, for everything." David gave Alan's back an encouraging pat as Colby and he silently left the room.

Alan watched his eldest son for a few minutes. He knew the boys had been at odds the last couple of days since Charlie's interview. He assumed that factored into why Don was looking so despondent. He had laid into his brother rather harshly for what seemed like something minor, but knowing Don the way Alan did he was sure behind the fear and worry Don was holding on to guilt as well. Alan spoke softly.

"This wasn't your fault Donnie."

Without taking his eyes off his brother Don cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "I heard it all and I couldn't help him."

"What?" Alan's insides felt cold. Surely Don did mean what Alan was fearful he was meaning. That somehow he knew what had really happened to Charlie.

"I had just hung up the phone with him and he called back within minutes." Don took a deep breath, looking at his father; sadness and pain filled his eyes. "When I answered it sounded like d…dead air," He stuttered slightly, "then I kept hearing the ramming sound, I heard his voice in the distance, then the crash." Don closed his eyes recalling every detail he had heard. "Then…Then I heard the gunshot." Opening his eyes again, he seemed to be pleading with his dad to understand what he was experiencing. "God dad, I heard someone shoot him and I couldn't stop it." Don's voice broke as Alan saw a single tear roll from his eldest's eyes. He came around the end of the bed and took Donnie in his arms, comforting the son he could. Pulling back Alan tried to fathom what it must have been like for his son to hear his little brother going through such a horrifying experience, knowing the protectiveness Don could exhibit when it came to Charlie. They fell silent as Alan crossed back to Charlie's other side. Each pulled a chair up to their respective side of the bed. Alan sat watching both sons, while Don sat holding his brother's hand, waiting for him to wake up.

A few hours passed. Nurses came in periodically to check on Charlie. Alan dosed in the chair, but Don was unable to sleep. The echo of the gunshot replayed in his head. Don still held onto Charlie's hand, occasionally squeezing it gently hoping for a squeeze back. Sometime around 4:30am he got that squeeze.

Don stood quickly, trying not to wake his father, and leaned over Charlie. "Charlie?" he whispered, "Can you do that again? Can you squeeze my hand again Buddy?" Don was rewarded with another squeeze, only stronger. Don noticed a frown come over his brother's features. "Hey Buddy, can you open your eyes?" Movement was seen as Charlie tried to comply with his brothers request.

"Hurts," Charlie choked out.

"What…what hurts?" Don whispered again, having a good idea what it was as he reached for the call button.

"Head…" Charlie groaned.

"Can I help you?" came the soft voice of the nurse who had answered the summons, waking Alan in the process.

"My brother's waking up," Don glanced at the door, also noticing his father stirring. "He says his head hurts."

"Charlie?" Alan asked, watching as Charlie still struggled to open his eyes.

"I'll send someone in." The nurse reassured.

"Don?" Charlie whispered.

"I'm right here Buddy, you're okay now." Don was greeted with two big brown, pain filled eyes, as Charlie finally slowly opened them, meeting Don's.

"Sorry…"

"Charlie you've got nothing to be sorry about." Don was confused as to why Charlie was apologizing.

"Stupid…"

Charlie was interrupted, as the doctor, followed by the nurse came into the room. "Mr. Eppes, I see you have finally decided to join us." The doctor looked over Charlie's last set of vitals.

"Head…hurts." Charlie closed his eyes again, putting his hands on both sides of his head.

"I'm sure it does. You have a nasty bump that has caused you to have a concussion. You may also feel…" This time the doctor was cut off by one panicked word.

"Sick!" Charlie rolled to his side, still clutching his head, feeling as if it was going to explode, as the nurse quickly grabbed the nearby emesis basin just as Charlie got sick. Don reached to help support his brother, trying to whisper comforting words. Charlie moaned loudly as he finished and rolled back onto his back.

"We'll give you something for that," the doctor commented and as if by magic the nurse pulled a filled syringe from her pocket of anti-nausea medicine, injecting it into Charlie's IV then quickly leaving the room to retrieve the pain medication. "As I was saying, you'll possibly feel sick. We're also going to go ahead and give you something for the pain. Between the concussion and the medication, you'll probably sleep a while longer. Once you wake back up we'll evaluate you and hopefully send you home in a few hours." The physician smiled toward Alan, who had felt completely useless watching his youngest son get sick. Noting he was losing his patient to the pull of sleep, the doctor stepped back as the nurse returned with the pain medication, injecting it into the IV port. As she moved to dispose of the used syringe, the doctor turned glancing at Don and Alan. "He'll be out a few more hours. You may want to come back later or maybe at least get yourselves something to drink."

Watching as Don just returned to his seat beside the bed, the doctor turned toward Alan, who spoke. "Thank you doctor. Do you really think we can take him home later today?" For the first time since this ordeal had begun, Alan felt a fluttering of relief at the prospect of getting Charlie, and Don as well, back into the safety of the four walls of the Craftsman.

"I don't see why not. Once he's woken again, we will ask him some basic questions, evaluating his responses. Providing nothing presents itself then you could have him home at least by dinner, if not sooner." As the reassuring words hung in the air the doctor left the room.

Alan looked over at Donnie. "Son, do you want to get something, maybe stretch your legs?" Alan felt he needed a short walk as his old, tired muscles didn't take kindly to sleeping in chairs.

Don shook his head, "I'll stay with him. You could bring me some coffee if you want. I just need…" Don was stopped by his father.

"I know Donnie. I'll get you some coffee son." With that Alan left the room. A short time later, despite trying not to, Don allowed his exhaustion to overtake him as he fell asleep next to Charlie's bed.

121212121212

David and Colby returned around 10:00am that morning. Alan was next to Charlie's bed reading the paper, Don was still sleeping, rather uncomfortably, by the looks of it, in the chair on the other side of the bed. Charlie himself appeared to have gotten some of his color back, including the tie-dye effect his bruise was producing.

Alan looked up as they walked in. "How's he doing?" David whispered, not wanting to wake Don.

Alan stood, approaching where they had stopped, just inside the door. "He woke up about 4:30 this morning. They gave him something for the pain and he's been asleep since. They said when he wakes up again and they get a chance to talk to him, if all goes well, we'll get to take him home later today." Alan smiled tiredly, turning his attention back toward his sons.

"That sounds great," Colby remarked, glancing at Don. "How's Don doing?" It had both amazed and frightened Colby the night before to see his hard-as-nails boss become so shaken and distracted when they still hadn't known how Charlie was.

Alan let out a sigh as he looked sadly at his eldest. "He hasn't left Charlie's side." Alan looked back at David and Colby. "He said he heard everything over Charlie's phone."

David nodded, "Yeah we did."

Just then Charlie started stirring and Don jerked awake. The four men watched as Charlie's eyes darted back and forth under his closed eyelids. They also noticed his breathing become erratic as well as his heart rate began increasing.

"Charlie?" Don tried to wake his brother as Alan pushed the call button. "Come on Buddy, wake up." Don gently, but firmly shook his brother's arm. They all jumped as Charlie shot up in bed, eyes wide with panic.

"OH GOD, HE SHOT ME!" Charlie yelled out as his hands went to his head and he moaned, pulling his legs up as if to curl into himself.

"It's alright Charlie, your safe now." Don touched his brother's arm as Charlie leaned back and curled onto his side.

Alan answered as the nurse's voice came over the intercom. "My sons awake." Hearing the nurse reassure them that someone was coming, David and Colby watched as Don tried to comfort Charlie.

Charlie opened his eyes, meeting the concerned eyes of his big brother. "I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, repeating his words from the night before.

Still as confused as then Don objected again. "Charlie, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Interview." Charlie spoke a little clearer, watching Don's face.

"No Charlie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come down so hard on…" Don was interrupted by the doctor.

"Well Mr. Eppes, how are you feeling this morning?" The doctor's cheerful voice immediately grated on Charlie's nerves.

"My head's killing me." Don flinched slightly at Charlie's choice of words as he watched his brother try and sit up. Alan found the button to raise the head of the bed.

"That's to be expected, you've got a concussion and with the graze wound I can only imagine. Now, before I give you anything for that I really need to ask you a few questions. If all goes well we can see about getting you on your way home soon." The physician watched as Charlie tried to nod, but winced at the motion.

"Okay, first…" The doctor started. "Can you tell me your full name?"

"Charles Edward Eppes." Charlie held the side of his head, hoping some external pressure would counter the internal pain.

"Good, do you know what year it is?"

"2008."

"Do you recognize the people in this room?" Glancing at the four other individuals the doctor waited.

Charlie closed his eyes a second, then opened them looking at Don, taking a deep breath. "That's my brother Don," Charlie moved his head slightly as he worked his way around the room. "That's David and Colby…work with my brother."

Don turned at that time as if just noticing the other members of his team, _'so much for all that FBI training Eppes' _, he chastised himself as Charlie continued. "And my dad, Alan."

"Very good," The doctor commented as he finished making notes on Charlie's chart. "Well you're going to feel a little more tired than usual for a few days and it will take time for your headache to fully go away, but I don't see any reason you can't go home, as long as someone is with you."

"There will be." Alan piped up, grateful to be getting to take Charlie home. He was hopeful that Don would come as well.

"Excellent, I'll get the nurse to get his discharge papers ready." the doctor directed his final comment toward Alan as Charlie had laid his head back and closed his eyes. "I'll send a prescription for some pain medication. If his symptoms become worse bring him back immediately."

"Of course, thank you doctor." Alan held out his hand, shaking the doctor's, before the physician left the room.

Don stepped closer to David and Colby. "God guys, I didn't even see you come in." Don shook his head, still upset with himself for his lack of observation.

"Man don't worry about it." Colby responded, "We just wanted to check up on Charlie."

"Do you have any leads?" Don asked glancing back at his brother, thinking maybe Charlie had fallen asleep again.

"Nothing concrete yet," Colby spoke, "but we're checking. I thought I remembered seeing the truck described by witnesses last night on the security video from the parking garage."

"It wasn't the first time I'd seen it either," A quiet voice spoke from the bed.

All eyes turned to Charlie. "What?…What do you mean?" Don's voice was filled with concern as he stepped near the bed.

Charlie raised his head; opening his eyes, but not meeting his brother's gaze. "The other night," Charlie took a deep breath, "after the interview, I think…I think I was followed."

Don stared in disbelief. why would his brother not have mentioned that? "Why didn't you tell me?" Don asked, as the others in the room exchanged looks of confusion at the confession.

"You were already so pissed off about the interview I just…" Charlie shot a nervous glance at his brother, who he expected to look angry, but what was reflected in Don's eyes was hurt.

"Charlie, come on," Don spoke softly. "you can come to me about anything, you know that right?" Don had to admit it did hurt him to think his little brother couldn't or wouldn't tell him something as important as being followed and now because of it he had been run off the road and shot. Don turned and looked at David and Colby, while Alan watched silently trying to absorb what had just been revealed. "Why would someone go after him?" Don was sure the answer was staring him in the face but he was still trying to fathom what his brother hadn't told him.

"Maybe they saw the interview?" David spoke, noticing from the corner of his eye that Charlie recoiled at the reminder.

"Yeah and he doesn't shoot back." Colby added.

"I want someone on him 24/7, you got it!" It wasn't a question, Agent Eppes was making his appearance now and he wanted to make sure his team knew Charlie needed to be protected until this case was over. Both Agents nodded as Don spoke again. "I'll go home with him, but I want someone outside by tonight and with him when he returns to CalSci."

"I'll take care of it." David replied. "Colby and I will head back, see if anymore has come in about the truck." David looked at Charlie. "Don't worry Charlie, we'll track them down. You concentrate on getting better, we'll see you later." Charlie nodded slightly as David and Colby turned to go. David stopped, stepping back toward Don, "Here," David handed Don his truck keys back. "Might need these." Don took the keys without a word, but thanks flashed on his face as he watched his team leave the room.

The room was silent as the three Eppes men waited for the nurse to return with Charlie's discharge papers. They were each lost in their own thoughts; Alan, frightened for his youngest son, knowing now that someone could be after him. Concerned for his eldest who he knew was beating himself up for his comments about the interview that had in turn caused Charlie to not tell him that he had been followed. Charlie; sitting cross-legged, feeling confused and frightened at the realization that someone shot him because of that stupid interview. Confusion at the hurt, rather than angry, look he had gotten from his brother once he'd revealed he had been followed. Then Don; angry at himself for being so harsh with Charlie about the interview, so much so that his own brother felt he couldn't come to him about the previous incident of him being followed, only to have his little brother nearly killed the second time around. Don's mind again began to question if his brother consulting for him was really a good idea.

The discharge from the hospital and the following ride home was also made in silence except for the occasional, "you okay?" questions Don asked Charlie, who had his head resting on the seat with his eyes closed, as Don kept stealing glances in the rearview mirror, as if to keep checking that his brother was still there. They stopped for Charlie's prescription, then made their way home.

As Charlie entered the Craftsman Don followed closely. Charlie made his way to the couch and laid down. Alan continued into the kitchen to make them something to eat, as none of them had eaten since the previous day.

"You staying?" Charlie asked, eyes closed as he settled himself further into the couch.

"I'm going to try and catch some sleep, then head back into the office, see where the investigation is going." Don stifled a yawn.

"I wanted to tell you, but you were so angry. I just figured…I didn't see the point, figured it would upset you more." Charlie cracked his eyes open, looking at Don who sat on the edge of the coffee table facing Charlie.

"Charlie, God. Didn't want to upset me?" Don reigned in his angry feeling at, what he felt, was a level of stupidity on Charlie's part, as he remembered that he, himself, hadn't been understanding about the interview. "Charlie," Don leaned in slightly. "I was terrified listening to what was happening to you over your phone, knowing I couldn't do a damn thing to help you. Then when I heard that gunshot…" Don leaned back again, running his hand through his hair, "When I finally got to the scene and you were on the ground, so still…" Don's voice was just above a whisper, "I thought I'd lost you." His voice broke slightly. Charlie saw, for one of the few times ever, fear behind the tear-filled eyes as he looked at his brother. The pain of what Don was feeling and had gone through finally registered with Charlie. "Charlie, please, no matter what. If something like this ever happens again, if you even think someone is watching you or following you-tell me. I don't…I can't do this again. I really thought I had lost you." Don wanted so badly for his little brother to understand, no matter what, he wanted-he needed to be there for Charlie.

"You're right, I'm sorry." Charlie felt so inadequate saying that compared to the emotion-filled statement his big brother had just imparted on him. It just confirmed what Charlie knew deep down in his soul. No matter what he could always rely on his brother.

Don gave Charlie a reassuring pat on the arm before he moved over to his father's recliner. He needed to catch up on some much-needed sleep before returning to the office and tracking down the sorry SOB who had the nerve to take shot at his little brother.

A/N: I stop here; at this point the episode would continue as it did, with David shadowing Charlie and Don and Colby discovering the connection to the real-estate developer. Hope I didn't disappoint anyone with this. Just really wish they would have done more with that episode. Thanks for reading, you're all great!

Montez


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